


natasha

by captainstarspangled



Series: when team members make peter cry [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aunt Natasha Romanov, IT'S ADORABLE OKAY, M/M, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark, Peter can't lose, Uncle Clint Barton, they play a video game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 14:13:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14474409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainstarspangled/pseuds/captainstarspangled
Summary: Natasha watches Peter for the day. They decide to play Mario Kart.Peter can't lose and Natasha and Clint are very good at this game. Steve comes in to save the day.





	natasha

   
Peter had got a Wii console for his 12th birthday a week before. It was the first video game console he had on his own, without it being over at Ned’s.

His parents were out on a public date to create some news on Stark industries and it was currently Natasha who had to watch him. “Do you want to play Mario Kart?” Peter smiled smugly. He’d got quite good at the game, and was sure he could defeat his old auntie at any point. 

Clint joined, too, and the three of them started racing all over the world. What Peter hadn’t thought of though, was that the two assassins worked together, in every situation. So they made it particularly hard for him to even become the head of the race. 

Or sometimes the let him be it, only to use a rocket shortly before the finish line. 

After about five races, Peter was starting to get frustrated. He hated losing, a character trait received by his dad. Pops would’ve just been happy with the others. 

“Stop that,” Peter said in a frustrated tone that made Natasha and Clint look at him with concern. 

“Stop what?” Clint asked, honestly not knowing what he meant because that was the way that the two of them played Mario Kart. 

“You know, working together, it’s not fair.” Now that was the child in him speaking. 

“Oh Peter, it’s just a game,” Natasha said and shrugged her shoulders. 

But to Peter, who had been dealing with losing better in the past year, it was still not just a game. 

Natasha and Clint promised to work alone from then on, and they started the next race. 

Now, the two assassins were merely attacking each other, and had the fun of their lives doing so. That was alright with Peter. He was leading the race and about half a row ahead.

That was until Clint, who’d been in the far back, received a rocket that brought him right in front of Peter. To add to his dismay, he hit two banana peels that had been thrown there before in a row and soon Natasha had taken him over as well. 

That was the end of the race, and Peter had come in last once again. Angry and frustrated tears made their way to his eyes, and he wanted to get out of there before crying in front of Clint and Natasha about a video game. 

“I’m out of here,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and tossing the controller on the couch. 

Peter got up and walked towards the elevator, the tears already wetting his cheeks. “Peter come on, that wasn’t on purpose,” Natasha said but they were both laughing and that made Peter cry harder. 

The sliding doors of the elevator opened just when Peter approached them, and out walked pops. Oh no. 

“Peter? What’s wrong?” Pops had lifted his boy into his arms before Peter could even protest. He placed the kid on his hip while the boy looked anywhere but at his father, or his uncle and aunt. 

Steve approached Natasha and Clint, who were both still smiling a little while on their phones. “What did you do?” he asked, and only then spotted the game on the TV, where Peter’s avatar was bawling his eyes out next to the podium and Clint’s and Natasha’s were celebrating. “Oh,” Steve said, smiling sympathetically. His boy, just like his husband. 

“Hey Pete,” he said and sat down on the couch, placing the boy on his lap to face him. 

The kid used the back of his hand to wipe away some snot, and his sleeves to wipe away the tears that had not fallen onto pops’ shirt. 

“You know dad and I don’t care whether you win a video game, right?” Peter nodded, eyes all puffy. “And also this game doesn’t determine whether you’re good kid or not, or if you’re smart.”

Peter nodded again, ducking his head in shame. 

“We love you whether you win against your aunts or not,” Steve concluded, smiling at the two assassins on the couch. 

Another nod. “I love you pops.” 

“I love you too, Peter.”


End file.
